Midlife Crisis Two: Marital Bliss
by The Absynth Fairy
Summary: A sequel to Midlife Crisis. Remus and Sirius are visited by Remus's sickeningly sweet sister Rebecca. Slash, a few uncomfortable walk-ins, split personalities, lost wedding bands and the fetal position will ensue.
1. Prologue: Of Trouble And Odd Wet Spots

**AN:** This is the new and improved version of Marital Bliss.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters associated with the Harry Potter books. They are the property of J.K. Rowling and Scholastic books.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF HOMOSEXUALITY.**

**Dedicated To:** The people who have been waiting patiently for me to update since 2005.

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**Prologue**

**Of Trouble and Odd Wet Spots**

Remus had had a very normal day. In fact it had been a normal week. To go further, it had been exactly six months of mediocre bliss.

The days and nights continued in a steady procession of the same, normal schedule. For Remus, normal was good. It was stable and had no over-bearing clouds of unrest to loom over the heads of happy couples. Little surprises led to trouble and odd wet spots on the carpet. And the only thing Remus hated more than odd wet spots was trouble... trouble and conflict.

And surprises of an unexpected nature, though Remus was hard-pressed to define them any other way since the very nature of the 'surprise' was... unpredictable.

Had Remus been as clairvoyant as his former staff-mate, Sybill Trelawney, he would have sensed an almost insurmountable foreboding about the months to come, for they were going to be filled with much trouble and many odd wets spots indeed.


	2. Feathers and Parchment

**A/N**: It's good to start writing again. I've been trying to clear up some personal matters and have been recovering from a nasty bout of bronchitis and the recent presidential election. Ech. I'll have a nice long rant about the Ogre in the Oval Office at the end of this fic. But, all is well now. I just haven't had the desire to write for a long while. I am fine now, and happy to be able to sit at my computer desk and write.

**WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEMBERS OF THE SAME SEX. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS MATERIAL/CONSEPT PLEASE FIND A MORE SUITABLE FIC FOR YOUR TASTES.**

**Disclaimer**: These characters (aside from a few exceptions) do not belong to me, nor were they created by me. They were created and are owned by one Miss J.K. Rowling.

_Dedicate to: All those people who graciously waited for my return to the keyboard. _

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**MIDLIFE CRISIS TWO- MERRITAL BLISS **

**Chapter# Two: Feathers and Parchment **

At exactly 9:00 p.m., Remus J. Lupin was drinking tea at his dining room table. He was just about to empty his cup when something large collided with the windowpane at his left. Remus jumped up, startled, and scrambled to his window, hesitating for a moment, and then lifting up the windowpane uncertainly.

He stuck his head through the window frame and looked down upon the crumpled heap of feathers that lay on the grass below. The heap of feathers revived itself angrily, leaving bits and pieces of fluff and down behind to float in the evening breeze as it flew determinedly through the window, zipped through the air, ricocheted off of the door of the muggle refrigerator that sat innocently in the corner and fell harshly on the table, knocking Remus' cup and saucer to the hardwood floor.

"Are... are you alright?" Remus asked timidly, walking over to the now tangle of feathers, and tied to this oddity's leg was a rolled up piece of parchment.

Remus prodded the creature suspiciously until it turned itself upright and hooted angrily.

Suddenly Remus gave a gasp.

It was an owl. And an owl he very much recognized.

"Is that YOU Archemedes?!" He eyed the small tag on the owl's left leg, and his suspicions were finally confirmed.

Remus gulped.

No matter how long you try to avoid it, the past always comes back to haunt you.

_Bloody Hell_, Remus thought bitterly, _this is going to be a long night_.

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I know that this one is short but the next chapter will be a little bit longer, I promise. In fact, since this one was so short, I'll start on the new chapter right now.

-The Absynth Fairy

My Rant:  Bush... Is... An... Idiot.  And the American people are idiots.  I thought they learned their lesson four years ago, with all the literal CRAP that happened.  I am honestly ashamed to be an American and take part in this regime.  And the fact that they are actually passing amendments banning Gay Marriage in many states disgusts me.  A person's personal right to marry whom ever they want to should not be dictated by the government, not federal government, and not the state governemnt.  I learned a long time ago that the founding fathers of our nation thought that the American public was not intelligent enough to choose a national leader for themselves.  No more is this right than now.  Here comes four more years of crap. Four more years of damage that will take decades to clear up and recover.  Lets just hope that America has the intelligence to vote for someone who will manage our country the way it was supposed to be managed.  George Walker Bush is NOT my president, and his realection means trouble for us all.

Goodbye, my darlings, and hope for a better America.


	3. Archimedes

**A/N**: I kept my damn promise! This one isn't too long, but I assume I'll get a nice long one up some time. I hope.

**WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEMBERS OF THE SAME SEX. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS MATERIAL/CONSEPT PLEASE FIND A MORE SUITABLE FIC FOR YOUR TASTES.**

**Disclaimer**: These characters (aside from a few exceptions) do not belong to me, nor were they created by me. They were created and are owned by one Miss J.K. Rowling.

_Dedicate to: Those lovely people who waited so anxiously for the sequel._

**

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****MIDLIFE CRISIS TWO- MERRITAL BLISS **

**Chapter# 3: Archemetes **

Archemetes was an old bird. The pride of the Lupin family, in fact, and that was an honor above all others for this old bird.

Well, that was exactly 25 years ago since he was the pride of the Lupin family and holder of one of the greatest merits an old bird could receive.

He was sent, now and then, to deliver important document. And only a veteran can do that properly, and with the old-fashioned dignity of a wizarding family who had important business to do and meant it.

But the last time he'd truly served an important purpose was twenty-five years ago. After that he was put into a steady, peaceful retirement, after he went blind.

Years of retirement can have quite an effect on an old bird like Archemetes. But he didn't mind. No, not one bit. After all, he knew he'd be put to work again, blind or not. The Lupins needed him. You can't trust these young, naïve little canary birds to do your delivering.

No siree. You had to trust the veterans of the trade.

And that was the exact reason why he was roused from his peaceful meditation on a January morning, 25 years after his retirement.

He'd been roused by a rough tapping on his cage bars. Slowly, he opened one big blind eye. He couldn't see anything out of it, or course, but that was the old owl habit he succumbed to now and then. And old habits die hard, mind you. He ruffled his feathers wearily, stuck out his speckled breast and hooted importantly.

The feeble, airy voice of Rebecca Lupin floated up to his owly ears. He's developed an impeccable sense of hearing since his last flight, and by the tone of Mistress Rebecca's voice he could understand that he would be flying once again.

He was nudged, suddenly, by a roll of parchment.

"Now Archie, darling, do be a kind old bird and deliver this most important message to my dear brother."

Archemedes grasped the parchment dutifully and waited for Mistress Lupin to unlatch the window.

He took off at once, but before he took flight he heard Miss Rebecca. "I do hope Remus will be happy to see me."

Just because you're and old, blind, 40 year old owl, it does not define you as dim. On the contrary, he was wise enough to know that turbulent times were coming indeed.

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Ohhh, foreshadowing is great.

-The Absynth Fairy


	4. Oh, No It's More Foreshadowing!

**A/N**: Oh, Jesus, thank you for putting up with me and not sending me hate letters. Now that I have some-what of a busy schedule, and a lot of family issues, I have less and less time to write, and this is the first time I've touched a keyboard in a fun way in weeks. But now things are better, and I am here to write and hopefully post a lot more often. Can you say writer's block? I hope you can. I think it's the penguin's fault. Bah.

**Chapter #3- Oh, No, It's More Foreshadowing!**

Remus read the last word of the letter and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, dear God, no, no, no, no, no, nooooo, NOOOOOO!!!"

Sirius rushed in the room, having just taken his impromptu and uncomfortably late nine O' clock shower and clothed in naught but a curiously fluffy white bath towel pinned hastily around his waist. "Anything wrong, Rem?"

"Oh, how could such a horrible, awful, disastrous thing happen? How, Siri, I beg of you, tell, me HOW!"

Sirius, to say the absolute least, was puzzled and worried. He made a mental note to hide all of the sharp objects in the house for at least a fortnight.

Here he was, dripping wet, with a fluffy white towel that was loosing its fluffiness and gaining more dampness by the minute, in the kitchen, three feet away from a psychotically upset Remus who was huddled close to the table with a bloody ancient bird teetering on the back of a chair, and beside them was a piece of parchment.

"Rem? Rem, darling…" he cautiously padded across the floor and peered over at the heap of Remus on the table. "D-did someone die…?"

"No." Answered the Heap of Remus.

"Did… we… did we go bankrupt?"

"No."

"Anything to do with your lycanthropy?"

"Worse."

"Well… um… well, what then?"

The Heap paused for a moment and then answered in the most grim manner possible,

"My sister's coming for holiday."

The air seemed to thicken when those words left Remus's lips and Sirius felt a chill run down his spine. And Sirius, by no means, was one of those dandies that believed in omens and all that rot, so the whole air thickening, spine-chilling thing might as well not have happened, because, as we all know, Sirius ignored it.

He readjusted his towel, which had now strategically slipped down. "Oh, Rem, sweetness, it can't be that bad…"

"You have no idea how bloody wretched it is, Siri."

"Rem, it's your sister, you should be glad to see her, right?"

"No, no, my family should be avoided at all costs."

"Oh, come now…"

"I'd like to, but I'm a tad bit upset."

Sirius was confused, as if he hadn't been all along, this only proved to heighten it. He thought for a moment. "Hey, listen, what's her name?"

"Rebecca."

Somewhere far away, a raven screeched in the night. The air whistled, and Artemis shrieked. Dogs were heard howling in the distance, a warning alarm of blood-curdling foreboding. The cats all over the neighborhood cried and mewled in warning. The trees whispered a song of dread and doom.

_Well, that was odd_, Sirius thought.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've been incredibly busy for the last few months,but I'll chug along.

-The Absynth Fairy


	5. Rebecca

**A/N**: I'm back, my pretties! Such a long, long wait. I need consistency, honestly. Many, many months. Please forgive me!

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**Chapter #5: Rebecca**

Now, Rebecca Annais Lupin was quite the normal girl.

To say 'normal', however, would be a very bold understatement. Now, to say that she was so normal, it roused suspicion, would not. By all means, she seemed happy, bubbly, pleasant, kind, helpful, and humble in every respect, given her wealthy upbringing and the fact that fortune simply ran in her gene pool.

But that was only how she was seen in public. That airy effeminate twitter could melt anyone at the knees, but it was, sadly, a deception. Her bouncy blond curls, clear amber eyes, and charming, genial personality was nothing short of an act; a mask to cover up flawed and unpleasant creature she really was.

To sum it all up without all of that nasty explanation, in Mr. Remus J. Lupin's unfortunate case, lycanthropy, either in one subtle way or another, ran in the family.

But it was a lychanthropy of a different nature.

And in that respect, Remus J. Lupin's reaction was in no way amplified, exaggerated, or even stretched.

To say it plainly, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black had a lot to worry about.

--**Meanwhile, at the Batcave**--

Sirius prodded Remus tentatively with the wooden ladle he'd been using to cook dinner. He had every right to. Remus had been lying in bed for three days.

The room was dark and somber, curtains drawn tightly with little to no sunlight shining through and at different moments, Sirius could here Depeche Mode blaring through their closed bedroom door, which left him wondering, as he watched his bewitched broom sweep the kitchen floor brusquely, why he didn't realize Remus listened to Depeche Mode earlier.

He was quite sure Remus was an avid Opera fan. But, Sirius thought, he'd be hearing Verdi's Requiem blasting through the house in no time.

He'd been tidying up for the upcoming arrival of their newest guest, who, for some odd reason, seemed to strike the utmost loathing in Remus. It was enough loathing and dread to drive Lupin into their bedroom and burrow under the comforter, never to rise or glimpse the sunlight again. So troubled was he, that he didn't even rise to sniff the air when Sirius was fiddling with the pots and pans, from which he'd been banned, obviously attempting to scare up some supper. He assumed that everything was alright, seeing as, thirty minutes later, he did not hear any screams issuing from the neighborhood children or any approaching sirens.

Sirius moved to open the curtains and when the sun hit Remus's eyes, he recoiled with a hiss into his comforter. Sirius stared at the lump in his bed for a second and then walked over to it, gently lifting the corner of the blanket to reveal a sickly-looking werewolf with mussed hair and dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

"Close the curtains!" Rasped the Lump of Remus.

"Now, Rem, darling, I want you to get out of bed and sit with me. Get a breath of fresh air."

"The world is an awful place, and that fresh air is dirty with Carbon Monoxide gas and other foul pollutants, there are people starving in foreign countries, there are killers walking the streets, trees are being chopped down, nature is dying, animals are being hunted for their pelts, people are being beaten in protests, the O-Zone layer is dying, we're all going to die and my sister is coming to visit. I'll stay in here and rot like a corpse and hope I'm numb when she finally gets here."

"Now, I don't see what's so wrong with Rebecca—,"

Somewhere far away, a raven screeched. Dogs were heard howling in the distance, a warning alarm of blood-curdling foreboding. The cats all over the neighborhood cried and mewled in warning. The trees whispered a song of dread and doom.

"Why the bloody hell does that keep happening?" Sirius asked.

--**Rebecca**--

Rebecca Lupin sniffed at the chill morning air as she boarded the train to Godric's Hollow. Normally, a witch such as herself wouldn't be caught dead taking muggle transportation, but this was a special occasion.

She had to take special precautions not to be seen parading around on her broom by any muggle folks, so she settled for the lesser means of transportation. But once she was able to settle into her comfortable compartment, she was at ease.

Muggle travel was not as horrible and disaster-ridden as she'd been told, though, she thought, wizard travel was much faster and a lot more efficient.

It was at least five in the morning, and it would take a good seven hours to reach her final destination, so Rebecca stretched out on the cushy bench of her compartment, failing to suppress a yawn, when, -poof-.

Laying there, in place of Rebecca Lupin was a worn man with a thin face and dark hair. The stubble across his chin was a good half an inch, his dark eyes bloodshot and heavy-lidded. His hair was mussed and out of place. He sneered out the window, glaring at the fast-moving countryside. "Muggle travel," he snorted, as he sat up.

He grunted upon looking at the dress he was wearing, all flowery and pink. The shoes were a bright, acid yellow, and the gloves tightly stretched around his large, rough hands were made of white lace.

"Doesn't this bloody woman know how to dress?" He snarled, snatching the frilly orange hat from atop his head. "She'd get less attention if she were playing Quidditch in the dining car…"

He was getting very tiered, he thought, though the clothing he ended up in was very restricting, he surpassed all obstacles and stretched out again, agile as a cat, over the soft velvet cushion.

"Keep your frilly clothing, wench, I'll come back when you have some decent garments on…" he said yawning.

Poof.

Rebecca Lupin was again reclining on the cushion as she had before, her hand politely over her mouth, lady-like and timid in her gestures. She laid her head on her hand bag, speaking wearily as she slipped off into sleep, "Quiet, you, I don't want to hear any complaints…"

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_Ooooohhh, suspense! So, she turns into a very unhappy man when she yawns. Who would've thunk it, eh?_

_Lollies for those who can guess what my lovely Rebecca Lupin was based on. I'll give you a clue: Most novice fan-fic writers (mostly women) make this mistake._

_- The Absynth Fairy_


End file.
